cracks in the heart of our love
by sanskrits
Summary: — "so what do you want, hermione?" / "i don't know."


**written for the golden snitch 'the snitch cup'**

 **school: hogwarts**

 **points: 10**

 **animal claimed: unicorn**

 **prompts: write a story on two characters breaking up**

 **stage: racing**

 **word count: 704**

 **a/n: ohhh i'm so close to winning, i've spent so much time on this**

. . .

"Ron?"

"Hey."

"I just — well, I've been thinking —"  
"Hermione, when are you not thinking?"

"Ahh, don't interrupt. As I was _saying,_ I've been thinking of starting some more Care of Magical Creatures —"

"You mean like _spew?_ "

"Hush, Ronald. It's S.P.E.W., not _spew._ I meant to say I was thinking about some more protests for the rights of these magical creatures, you know, because Thestrals are considered so dark when really they're quite peaceful, pretty little creatures, and that time in first year with all the unicorn blood. I mean, why can't we treat these animals like _humans?_ Oh, and house elves _barely_ got their rights, either — the Ministry just doesn't want to give those to them, it's infuriating — _oh!_ "

"I got you to shut up, didn't I?"

"Oh, but Ronald! You can't just listen to me for once?"

"That — that wasn't what I meant —"

"But that's what you _did,_ didn't you?"

"Hey, Hermione, we don't need to — to just _fight_ and bicker all day the way we did back in, I 'dunno, fifth year…? I meant to be a good boyfriend, and really you talk so fast I could barely register what you were even saying — how about this, we can write down your ideas and pitch them to the Ministry, how does that sound?"

"Oh...all right, Ron."

. . .

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, would you look over this paper I've got to make for the Auror offices —"

"Ronald, you procrastinator! You got that one last week!"

"Yes, I procrastinate very much, I know, 'Mione. But I've still got to _do_ it, you know."

"At twelve in the night. Wonderful!"

"No need for the sarcasm —"

"Well, what else am I supposed to use? Gentle words? They don't work any longer. And your constant putting off of _every_ — _single_ — _task_ is getting annoying rather than endearing. Ron, you need to sort out your priorities!"

"Oh, shut up, Hermione, with your blabbering _every_ — _single_ — _second_. It's getting annoying rather than endearing. You need to lighten up!"

"Well, how am I supposed to lighten up if I'm not getting any sleep — especially now that you're keeping me up at night in a most undesirable way?"

"I don't know, Hermione. But that's _your problem_ —"

"Oh, my problem now, is it? _You're_ this problem here, and we're _married,_ Ronald Weasley! You need to pull your weight here!"

" _I need to pull my weight?_ Where were you when I was? Where were you when I was in St. Mungo's for a curse?"

"My boss wouldn't let me off, Ron, you know that!"

"That's no excuse, you could've told him the truth!"

"Oh, hush —"

"No, that's your fault, because you keep lying to your boss. What's so bad that you can't tell him the truth?"

"We're both war heroes, Ron, and the _Prophet_ 's been out of our lives for so long, I didn't want to ruin that."

"So what happens when _I'm_ out of _your_ life?"

"Ron —"

"I don't want to hear it. Actually, you know what? I'll just have Ginny look over this tomorrow. Good night."

. . .

"Are you cheating on me? With _Lavender Brown?_ "

"What — what makes you think — that?"

"You're always late. And we're always fighting, and you always look so dazed when you come home, and well — there are rumors all over the _Prophet,_ what am I supposed to think?"

"Well, maybe I am, Hermione. But you've been so distant. Always working. You never have time for me, and you spend all your free time with Ginny, complaining about me. She tells me these things, you know, she's my _sister._ "

"And if I do…?"

"We should just stop _pretending._ I'm tired of this. You're tired of this. It isn't working out. So what do you want, Hermione?"

"...I don't know."

"You hesitated."

"I know."

"You don't want an _us_ anymore, do you?"

"I'm sorry, Ron."

"S'okay. I don't either. And I'm the one cheating on you. I'm sorry, too."

"Well — I suppose — we should get divorce papers."

"Yeah. We should."

"It's better this way, isn't it?"

"Still friends, 'Mione?"

"Friends, Ron. Always."

. . .


End file.
